Kindred Spirits
by haleigh91
Summary: A collection of fluffy Captain Swan oneshots from prompts sent to me on Tumblr.
1. Cover Up

**Prompt: "I would like to read something like, Killian is sick, like having a cold and emma say something like that.. "I've told you so" that he should close his.. ehm.. shirt.. fic prompt.. Idk.. if you written it so far :) or something like that"**

* * *

The beautiful snow fell gently to the streets, covering Storybrooke in a white blanket. It was a perfectly calm and peaceful town, at the moment. After defeating the Wicked Witch everyone seemed to have fallen into a domestic life, living as normal as they could until the next villain attacked. But for the moment, it was nice.

Soft snow crunched under Emma's feet as she walked the path towards Granny's diner. On a cold day as today, she knew that everyone would be huddled there in the warmth, sharing stories and sipping hot chocolate. The joys of living in a small town.

The doorbell jingled as she entered the crowded establishment, her eyes scanning the room as she dusted the white flakes from her red leather jacket and black scarf. She wouldn't admit it out loud but she was looking for someone. Him.

After defeating the Wicked Witch with True Love's Kiss the pair had aptly avoided each other for some time. But again, there is one disadvantage to living in a small town – it is almost impossible to avoid someone. So, although neither liked to admit it at first, they fell into a routine of sorts; meeting each other for lunch, walks hand in hand along the docks, late movie nights spent cuddling on the couch. And just like everything else in the town lately, it felt oddly normal.

She spotted him sitting in the corner booth, his back to her, yet she could see a steaming cup of hot chocolate in his hand. Smiling, she made her way over to the pirate. Her pirate.

"Good morning, Killian," she spoke, her voice more cheery that it had ever been as she slid into the booth across from him. He gave a short grunt in response. Confused, she looked up to meet his eyes. Oh.

His normally blue eyes were swollen, pink, and puffy. He sniffled before loudly sneezing into the corner of his elbow, obviously avoiding eye contact with her. Killian groaned a few more times, his stuffed nose not allowing him to breathe properly, before he found himself in another coughing fit.

"Are you okay?" Emma questioned, concern written across her face as she reached across the table to take his hand in hers.

He gave a short grunt in response. "It seems as though I'm a tad bit under the weather at the moment, Swan."

"You're sick," she deadpanned, as more of a statement than a question. And even though she was concerned for the pirate, she let out a short sarcastic laugh.

He arched his eyebrows in response. "You mock my pain, love?"

A sly smirk graced her face as she let go of his hand and crossed her arms across her chest proudly. "All I have to say is 'I told you so'."

"Excuse me?" he murmured before breaking into another round of coughing. She waited for his coughing to subside before responding.

Pointing to his exposed chest, she smugly exclaimed, "I told you to button up or you were going to get sick. Which you then proceeded to state that pirates never get sick, even in ten degree weather. Looks like I was right after all."

Another groan escaped Killian before he laid his forehead down on the table in mock defeat. Emma just gave another giggle before rising from her seat and moving to the other side of the booth next to Killian. Wrapping her arms around him she soothingly rubbed up and down his leather clad back.

"I'm sorry," she quietly whispered into his ear, tinged with redness from both sickness and embarrassment.

He moved his head from its place on the table to look her in the eyes. "It's okay, Swan. I should have listened to you. You certainly know this realm better than I do."

Giving him a small, concerned smile she began to unwrap the black scarf that was tied neatly around her neck. "Here," she chuckled, moving the scarf from her neck and tying it snugly around his, positioning it to cover part of his exposed chest. When he raised his eyebrow in question, she simply responded, "So you won't be cold anymore."

He nodded, trying to force a smile across his face, sniffling once again in the process. "Thank you, love."

Settling her head against his shoulder, she felt him intertwine their fingers and she sighed happily. "Anytime, Killian."


	2. Terms of Endearment

**Prompt: "One day Killian starts calling Emma "babe" instead of "love". She finds it extremely funny and he doesn't know why."**

* * *

The first time he heard it was when Mary Margaret was pregnant. The gang wearily retreated back to the loft after yet another violent battle with the Wicked Witch. Shutting the door behind him, Killian watched Emma crumple to the couch in exhaustion. He saw the fatigue take over her as she uncomfortably stretched her arms out in an unsuccessful attempt to loosen the knots in her back.

Glancing up at David, he saw the man lean over to kiss his wife's forehead, concern written across her face as she was not allowed to be apart of the battle they had just fought. Killian watched the two lovingly embrace before he heard David whisper to her.

"Go get some rest, babe."

Babe. He frowned at the word, unsure of its meaning. But knowing that it came out of David's mouth towards Mary Margaret, it had to mean something good. Something loving.

Emma looked up from her place on the couch and noticed his contemplation before interrupting his train of thought.

"Are you okay?" she murmured, so low that he almost didn't hear her speak.

He snapped his mind out of his internal battle and focused attention on her. The woman he loved.

Scratching the rough stubble on his chin he shortly replied, "Uh, yeah. I'm going to head back to Granny's for some rest. If anything comes up –"

"I'll keep you posted," she informed him, giving him a quick nod and the smallest smile that she could muster at the moment.

Sleep was nowhere to be found though. He laid in the dark room alone at Granny's, the word just kept reverberating around in his head, bouncing around like a metal sphere stuck in a pinball machine.

* * *

The second time he heard it, the word came from Mary Margaret's mouth. Their new baby had been born a few weeks earlier, ironically on the same night that the Wicked Witch had been defeated. The little prince, with wide eyes and soft hair, had been named James and, even though he wouldn't admit it, Killian took a liking to the lad. Honestly, he probably stayed over at the Charming's house just as much to be around him than Emma or David.

Killian settled down deeper into the couch, getting ready for what Henry liked to call "Movie Night". The boy had insisted on showing him the cartoon Peter Pan. And even though Killian did not want to see how this world perceived him, he would do anything for Henry.

He watched Emma insert the DVD into the player when they heard it. James had begun to cry in his nursery. Mary Margaret sighed wearily from exhaustion, obviously not yet used to the stress of raising a newborn.

Glancing over at David, Mary Margaret gave him a soft smile. "Babe, could you please check on him for me?"

At this point though, she really did not even have to ask. Halfway through her sentence David had already stood up, wanting to help his fatigued wife in anyway possible with the baby. Leaning over and kissing the top of her head, David gave her a short "Of course" before heading to the nursery, the circles under his eyes just as dark.

As much as Killian tried to concentrate on the movie, the word would just not escape his head. He saw the crocodile chasing his cartoon alter ego. Babe. He watched Captain Hook and Peter Pan fighting aboard the Jolly Roger. Babe. Something about the word pleased him. One day he hoped to figure out why.

* * *

Several weeks had passed since those moments. The seasons had changed and relationships grew stronger. This was the case for many, especially Emma and Killian. Now, they were not in a committed, official relationship yet as they both continue to dance around the boundaries, refusing to fully test the waters. Both had experienced so much heartbreak in their lives, making them especially careful not to cross any lines prematurely.

So they stuck to their usual self's as best they could - Killian with his flirty banter and innuendos, Emma smirking and rolling her eyes, even though internally she loved it. Which all led them here, comfortably sitting alone in the loft; Killian glancing over maps with focus, planning his next Jolly Roger excursion, and Emma curled up next to him with a book, her feet resting on instinct under his thighs. He leaned over every now and then to rub small circles on her ankles, sending unsuspecting chills up her legs and releasing dancing butterflies in her stomach.

Killian moved from map to map, charting routes and thinking of adventures to come. Keeping his gaze upon the parchment, he nodded towards Emma.

"Babe, could you hand me a pencil?"

After a few moments of silence, not hearing her reply, Killian raised his eyes to meet hers. Her mouth was slightly agape, her eyebrows arched in confusion as she lowered the book from her face.

She blinked once. Twice. And then laughed. Not like a little schoolgirl giggle either; this was a full belly laugh that had her clutching her sides and gasping for breath.

Killian sat there, stunned, watching the blonde beauty and, even though he enjoyed watching her laugh because it was such a rarity, he was beyond confused.

"Did I miss something? What so funny, Swan?" he glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest in defense.

Between gasping breaths, she managed to form a question, still clutching at her sides. "What did you say?"

"Um…" he anxiously scratched behind his ears, a common habit he did when he was nervous. "I asked for a pencil."

Smirking and crossing her arms across her chest to mimic his position, she boldly answered. "You know what I mean, Killian. What did you call me?"

Biting his bottom lip and avoiding her gaze, he whispered his answer quietly, so low that she almost didn't hear it.

"Babe."

Emma let out another small giggle, clamping a hand over her mouth, a red blush taking over her checks. "You've been spending too much time around my parents," she muttered to herself under her breath. Looking back up at him, she questioned, "Do you even know what that word means?"

Running his good hand through his dark hair, he let out a frustrated sigh. "No, I don't believe I do, love."

"Well," she began, "its kind of like how you call everyone love. Except, well, you call _everyone_ love. A word like that is…" her voice trailed off in thought, trying to think of an easy way to explain this to him, a pirate who never understood her realms quirks. "Well, it's a term of endearment, reserved for someone special. It's something you call someone that you love. Someone you care for. Your partner, I guess."

Smiling up at her, he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. Rubbing small circles on her palm, Killian lifted her hand up to place a small kiss on each knuckle. "Well then, love, I do believe that I used it properly."

Emma's lips curved upward as she gently squeezed his hand. "Yeah, I guess you did."


	3. Just Breathe

**Prompt: Killian is already nervous for his first date with Emma, so it doesn't help when it isn't Emma who answers the door but rather an overprotective David. Captain Swan/Captain Charming with a dash of Daddy Charming. Rated F for fluff and feels.**

* * *

Breathe in. breathe out.

This was his mantra, the phrase he kept internally repeating in order to calm down, to keep himself composed and bring his anxiety down.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Just breathe.

Who would have ever thought in a million years that him, Captain freaking Hook, would be nervous about a date? Asking her had come so naturally. They had already fallen into a routine of sorts, with their daily tradition of breakfast together at Granny's. Sometimes their breakfast would even span into lunch, the two cozily settled into the back booth as they talked about everything and nothing. It felt so normal and domestic. Then, one day, in the midst of their conversation on his favorite food from this realm (which was by no means bologna), he had casually asked her to dinner aboard his ship. And, after much prompting, and perhaps a puppy pout from Killian, Emma finally agreed.

So now that brought him here: standing outside her apartment door at the loft, almost too scared to lift up his hand and knock. He shifted uneasily in the button down and slacks that David had helped him pick out. Out of nervous habit he readjusted the flowers he stole from a neighbors yard – pirate, after all – and settled them comfortably in his hook, freeing his good hand to knock. If only he had the courage.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Keeping his breathing at a steady pace and closing his eyes tightly, he reached his arm up and gave the door three short knocks. He may have been nervous for the date but nothing prepared him for the sight he bore when the door quickly flung open, as if he had been waiting for him all night.

Seeing David at the door instead of Emma confused him as he cocked his head to the side at the sight of the man, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Dave?"

"We need to talk," he spat, roughly grabbed Killian's arm and pushing him to the side.

"I'm sensing that something is wrong, mate," Killian groaned as he was forcefully slammed back against the door. He winced as David pushed at him once again, not enough to hurt him, just to scare him a little.

"Tonight you are going on a date with _my_ daughter."

_Oh._ Killian smirked. _So that's what this was about. _"Aye."

David squeezed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and looked as if he were using some calming breathing techniques of his own. "Have her back by midnight. Do not touch her. Do not kiss her," he chanted, as if he had rehearsed those words a million times beforehand.

Killian rolled his eyes, as his smirk grew wider. "I can't make any promises, mate. After all, your daughter is quite-"

"Don't finish that sentence," David growled before exhaling and taking a step back from the pirate he had pinned against the door. His expression softened. "Look, you're my best mate. So I trust you with my little girl."

Killian's face and body relaxed before placing his good hand on David's shoulder. "I don't know if you've noticed, Dave, but she's not so little anymore."

Frustrated, David ran his hands across his face in defeat. "I know," he whispered, his head hung in dejection. "How did this happen?"

"You can't hold on to her forever. Besides, she's in good hands," Killian stated before glancing down at his hook and back up to David, a cheek grin spread across his face. "Well, hand," he corrected.

Now it was David's turn to roll his eyes as the mood in the room settled and the two shared a quite chuckle. And with unspoken glances, Killian knew exactly what David had been trying to say to him.

_I'm glad she found you._

"Killian?"

Killian heard the soft voice from behind David and knew instantly who it was. He took a deep breath, in and out, before moving aside to finally see her. There she was: golden curls and a tight red dress that hugged every curve just right, and it was doing terribly unspeakable things to Killian's mind right now, especially with her father standing right in front of him. She was simply gorgeous.

"Swan," he grinned, moving past David to stand in front of her, offering her the flowers from his hook. "You look stunning."

With a smile, she gratefully took the flowers, her eyes scanning him up and down. "You don't look too bad yourself, Jones. Where'd you steal the flowers from?"

Killian gave a quiet chuckle, ducking his head down in embarrassment. "You know me too well, lass."

Feeling the buildup of, in his case – unwanted, sexual tension in the room, David cleared his throat, pulling the two out of their trance. "Well, I guess you two should get going or this date will be over before it even starts."

Now it was Emma's turn to be embarrassed, the red blush starting at her cheeks, down her neck, and dipping below her dress. And Killian just couldn't help but wonder exactly where that blush leads.

A clap on the shoulder from David pulled him out of his naughty thoughts. He gave the pirate a nod before he turned to his daughter.

"Emma," David smiled, pulling his daughter into a hug, using one of his hands to gently cradle her head, the way he does so many times, the way he did on the day she was born. "You look absolutely beautiful," he whispered into her ear.

"Thanks," she whispered back, before hesitantly adding, "Daddy."

She could feel David smile into her hair before he let go. She had never seen as much pride in his eyes as she did in that moment. He gave his daughter a hesitant smile before turning away from the pair. "Have a good time, you two."

Holding his arm out, Killian turned to Emma. "Shall we?" He cocked an eyebrow, his tongue teasingly running across his bottom lip.

Emma graciously took his arm as she playfully rolled her eyes, wrapping her small arm around his, leaning into his side on instinct. "We shall," she smiled, her jade eyes lighting up as they glanced into his blue ones.

* * *

David would never mention that he was watching them, anxiously waiting for his daughters return at midnight. He would never say that, from the loft, he saw the pair approaching, hand in hand as they laughed together down the street. He would never tell them the warmth that overtook him as he watched the pirate take his daughter into his arms, lips lightly touching in a sweet goodnight kiss. David would never ever admit it out loud, but he was glad that Emma had found him. And although he kept it to himself, David always knew true love when he saw it. And on that crisp spring night in Storybrooke, as he glanced down at his daughter wrapped up in Killian's arms, he saw it.


	4. Anticipation

**Prompt: "A captain swan fluffy fic where Killian is protective over a very pregnant Emma and their unborn daughter Hope."**

* * *

He would never forget the day that she had told him the news. The pair had been happily wed for a few months, yet living uncomfortably in the loft with David and Mary-Margaret. Sure the loft was cozy but it was a bit much for six people, with the addition of Emma's toddler sibling James. After an awkward incident of Mary-Margaret walking in on them together (sure they were married but, come on, it was her mom for Christ's sake), Emma and Killian had made the decision together: it was finally time to buy a house.

Even though it was a small town and they knew everyone there, they felt like doing this the proper way. So on a warm day in mid-Spring, Killian sat in the loft in David's armchair, his feet comfortably propped up against the coffee table as he skimmed through the classifieds section of the newspaper.

_Two bedroom, one bath, outskirts of Storybrooke, good condition. Flying monkeys have been spotted._

Scratch that one off.

_Two bedroom, one and a half bath, quiet neighborhood (except for the dwarves on karaoke night)_

Mark that one off too.

Killian sighed once more. It felt as if they were never going to find the perfect place. Skimming through the list once more, his eyes rested on an ad that he had somehow missed.

_Two bedroom, two bath, near Storybrooke School, white picket fence, charming and cozy._

Killian sighed in content as he felt two arms wrap around him from behind. He felt Emma place a kiss against the side of his brow.

"How's it going?" she questioned in a whisper against his ear, another defeated sigh leaving her lips.

"I think I might have actually found one, love," he grinned, eyes lighting up, pointing to the ad and turning around to fully face her.

Emma leaned down to read the ad, her brows furrowing in concentration. Her smile slowly disappeared, lips curving downward instead.

"Well it sounds nice…" she uneasily started, biting her tongue to keep from continuing.

"But?" he questioned, knowing his wife so well. And when she raised an eyebrow in question, he just shortly added, "Open book, love."

"But, there are only two bedrooms."

"Why is that a problem, lass? It's just you, Henry, and me. We'll have all the room we will need."

"Killian," she whispered, walking around the chair to fully face him, her smile growing larger by the minute. "We need three bedrooms."

"Why is that? It's not like we need a guest bedroom, we will still live in the same town as your parents, and besides-"

"Killian," she softly interrupted, a light giggle escaping her mouth before she repeated the phrase again, with a bit more power this time. "We _need_ three bedrooms."

He quirked an eyebrow. And when he didn't respond, she grabbed his good hand and led it towards her stomach, pressing it firmly there, his fingers splaying across the warm fabric of her shirt.

"I'm pregnant."

When he didn't answer immediately, her smile faded, worry etched across her face. "Didn't you hear me? I said I'm-"

Emma was quickly cut off by his lips pressed firmly against hers. She moaned in surprise before hurriedly giving back, angling her head and running her tongue across his bottom lip. He didn't give her access and instead pulled back, gently resting his forehead against hers.

Through his labored breathing, he panted, "I love you so much, Emma."

"So you're happy? I know we haven't really talked about it but-"

"Emma," he interrupted, using his good hand to cup her cheek, his eyes lighting up as he adoringly looked at his wife. "Love, I've never been happier. We're going to have a child. Our love has created something so special. Why would I not be happy?"

And now here they were, eight and a half months later, soundly sleeping in their new home in Storybrooke. It was in the early hours of the morning; Emma's face snuggled against Killian's bare chest while he wrapped a protective arm over her swollen belly. The baby would be due any week now, keeping both of them on their toes in anticipation.

Emma stirred from beside Killian and, on instinct, he wrapped his arm even tighter around her, pulling her body flush against his.

"Killian," she mumbled through her sleep, her eyes slowly fluttering open and her voice groggy. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Killian groaned from beside her, never moving his arms from around her waist. Emma struggled some more to get out of his grasp but, with her large stomach, it was a wasted effort.

"Come on now," she complained, pushing at his arms, trying her best to loosen them, "Your daughter is literally sitting on my bladder."

Killian groaned once more before loosening his hold on her, his arms retreating to his sides.

"Thank you," she whispered, wiping the hair off his forehead to kiss him softly. She turned, swinging her legs over the side of their bed before waddling off to the bathroom.

She arrived back a few short minutes later to see Killian sitting up. His back rested gently on the headboard, his legs crossed in front of him. He was playing with his hook, though not attached, worry and concern etched across his face, apparently deep in thought.

"Killian?" she called quietly, her head cocking to the side to catch his gaze as she sat down beside him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, love," he spoke softly, keeping his eyes fixed on his hook, aptly avoiding her gaze.

She sighed from beside him. "Well whenever you want to talk about it, I'm here," she promised, running her hand soothingly over his bare shoulder. She placed a light kiss there before continuing. "I'm going to go make us some breakfast."

"No!" he called desperately, grabbing her hand and gently tugging on it to pull her back down to the bed carefully. "Dr Whale put you on bed rest. He specifically said for you not to be doing anything strenuous."

She smirked, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "I'm just going to make pancakes. It's not like I'm planning on running a marathon around the kitchen."

Her laugh subsided when she realized he wasn't laughing along, instead choosing to avoid her eye contact while his fingers ran over the hook in his lap.

"Killian," she spoke softly, using one hand under his chin to turn his gaze towards her, the other rubbing smoothing circles across her stomach. When blue eyes met green, she immediately knew that there was more going on inside his head. "What's going on?"

He sighed, his eyes closing shut and his jaw clenching to keep from speaking.

"If you're worried about being a good father, Killian, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Hope is going to love you."

Killian bit the inside of his cheek, looking at Emma before averting his eyes elsewhere, his voice low. "It's not her or I that I am worried about, love."

_Oh._

That's when it hit Emma as to what this all was really about. The closer it got to her delivery date, the stranger Killian had been acting. He constantly got more concerned, more apprehensive, more protective over her.

She realized that the last birth he had probably witnessed was in the Enchanted Forest, where they didn't have the luxury of modern medicine. Where a vast majority of pregnant women died giving birth. And then that's when she remembered something very important; his own mother had died giving birth to him.

"Oh, Killian," she cooed softly, cupping his cheek with her hand, using her thumb to wipe away a stray tear that was slowly rolling down his face. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I'm going to be fine."

He sighed once more, opening his mouth to finally speak. "I know that technology has made birth safer here, but I just can't help but worry about you. This is something that I cannot protect you from, love. And it's going to kill me to see you in pain."

Emma gave him a soft smile, dropping her hand from his cheek to intertwine their fingers. "We are all going to be okay, Killian. You, me, and Hope. We are going to happy and healthy. Sure, I may be hurting for a few hours but it will soon be forgotten. When you hold that little baby in your arms for the first time, it's all going to be worth it."

Killian lifted up their intertwined fingers to kiss her knuckles. "I am going to do everything in my power to protect the both of you."

Emma smiled back at him before gently bringing his lips to hers, giving him a short and sweet kiss. Laying her forehead against his, she brought her lips back just enough to whisper, "You already have."

Two short weeks later, Emma and Killian welcomed Hope Jones to the world. And just as he had anticipated, Emma was right. The second his blue eyes met her tiny emerald ones, as they looked up at him wide-eyed, he knew that (after all the pain and anticipation) it was worth it. And Killian vowed that day to do everything in his power to protect his girls.


	5. A Second Chance

**Prompt: Henry has always had a knack for using the camera. But when Killian begins to notice photographs that don't include him, his concern for his and Henry's relationship grows. Captain Swan/Captain Cobra. Rated F for feels and fluff.**

* * *

He first noticed them shortly after he moved in, and to be quite honest, he's surprised that he didn't become aware of it before that day. After much explaining that the little black box wasn't magic, Killian finally grasped the concept for Henry's camera. He had a vintage Polaroid one, the kind that spits out the picture as soon as it's taken (and then the viewer proceeds to shake or blow on it because they assume it will help it develop faster).

Killian found the first one a few days after he had came to live with Emma and Henry. He was unpacking one of his boxes of books when he spotted the photograph on the coffee table. Now distracted from his task, Killian dipped down to pick up the portrait, grinning when he saw how lovely his Swan looked. The picture was of Emma in the kitchen making pancakes, one of the few items she knew how to cook without burning the place down. Smiling, he flipped the picture over to see that Henry had written a description on the back.

_Mom making breakfast._

It was simple and sweet, and Killian couldn't help the swell he felt in his chest at how much Henry obviously loved his mother. He was relieved when everything had finally settled down after the Wicked Witch had been vanquished. He was even more thankful that Henry had forgiven Emma when his memories finally came back.

Smiling once more down at the picture, Killian gently tucked it away in his back pocket, hoping Henry wouldn't notice it was missing.

A few days later, while making his routine cup of morning coffee (how did Captain Hook get so domesticated?), he discovered another Polaroid on the kitchen island. Fingering the picture, he noticed it was what Emma liked to call a "selfie". The photograph was taken the night before, Emma and Henry snuggled close together on their weekly movie night, Henry obviously stretching the camera out in front to take a picture of the both of them. He flipped the portrait over to read the inscription.

_Movie night with the best mom ever!_

The familiar swell came once more before his heart squeezed lightly in his chest in sadness. Killian had been sitting right next to Emma that entire night. It felt as it Henry had deliberately cropped him out of the picture. But surely he would remember the boy taking it. Killian managed to convince himself that Henry had taken it when he went to the kitchen for a popcorn refill. But the more he thought about it, the more concerned Killian became. After internally battling with himself for a minute too long, the pirate sat the photograph back on the counter and walked away.

During the next few weeks, they popped up everywhere and became more and more frequent. Pictures of Emma cleaning the house, her and Henry playing video games, the night they played Twister and got tangled up on the floor, laughing; occasions that Killian had all been apart of. The more photographs he found, the more disheartened he grew. Killian had always assumed that he had a good relationship with Henry. So why did it feel like Henry was deliberately cutting him out of his life, out of everything special.

Finally, two months after he had moved in, Killian decided to address the issue with Emma. He had to know if he was making all of this up, if it was all in his mind. He needed reassurance that only she could give.

"Of course Henry loves you," she spoke between a chuckle and a snort, her head coming to rest in the crook of his neck as they lay tangled up in bed, the moonlight splendidly shining through the sheer curtains. "Why would you even ask that?"

Killian sighed into the mass of blonde curls before kissing her lightly on the forehead. Stretching his sated limbs, he reached onto the nightstand to pick up one of the Polaroid's, the first picture he had found of her making breakfast.

"Oh," Emma shortly replied, aptly avoiding eye contact as best she could.

"Oh? That's it?" he sharply stated, sitting up in bed a little too fast, the blood rapidly running to his head, the room starting to spin a little bit.

Mirroring his actions, she propped herself up on one elbow to face him. "Don't take it personally, Killian. He rarely even takes photographs of David and Mary-Margaret."

"That's besides the point, Swan," he spat, angry with himself more than anything. What a fool he was to think that he had actually been accepted into the family, that Henry might have actually looked to him as a role model and father figure. "He cut me out. I was here every single bloody time. I just thought that things were different."

Giving him a small, sad smile, Emma cupped his cheeks in her hands, wiping away an overwhelming stray tear that had somehow managed to escape. "He does like you, Killian. These things just take time." She placed a light kiss on his lips and he sighed against them. "Don't worry though. I believe it will happen sooner than you think."

He really wanted to believe her. Truly, he did. Killian trusted Emma's opinion more than anything. But the writing was on the wall (and Emma's face, so to speak). His and Henry's relationship was more broken than he cared to admit. And he didn't know how to properly solve it. As Emma fell asleep against his chest, her breathing becoming shallow and rhythmic, he reminisced on a time where he had another boy he constantly worried about. Thinking about Bae, and how much Henry was like him, Killian knew that this situation needed to end different. He wouldn't lose another son. Not this time.

The next thing he knew, Killian was waking up to the sunlight pouring in from the open window, Emma's side of the bed unoccupied. He sniffed once and, smelling the pleasing aroma of bacon cooking, his stomach growled loudly. Laughing, he shook his head before stretching out his legs, crawling out of the bed, and heading towards the kitchen.

"Good morning, love," he greeted her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, her head turning just enough to give him a small kiss. "This smells delicious."

"I was going to bring you breakfast in bed," she whined, pulling her lips into a small pout. "Henry is gone to spend the morning with David and won't be back until later. And it is a special day after all."

Killian froze, running through the list of important dates in his mind. It wasn't anyone's birthday, anniversary, or a major holiday. Upon a moment of silence, he realized that it must be a small (yet strange) customary holiday from this realm.

"Today is Father's Day," she explained, slipping the bacon onto a plate and handing it to him, turning around in his arms to face him. "Remember last month when we celebrated Mother's Day?"

"Aye," he responded, remembering that day vividly. Henry had made her a homemade card and everything. It had been awhile that Killian had seen her as happy as she was on that day.

"Well Father's Day is exactly the same. Except instead of celebrating mothers, you celebrate the important men in your life."

Killian's face fell, his eyes downcast as a frown pulled across his face.

"Killian," Emma whispered, tilting his chin up to force his blue eyes upon her. "I think there's something in the living room you need to see."

With his sweatpants hung low on his hips, his chest and feet still bare, Killian softly padded across the cold wood floor, in route towards their living room. When he arrived, he noticed a small box sitting on the coffee table, a red bow delicately wrapped around it. He fingered the pretty wrapping in curiosity and, assuming the gift was for him, slowly tore off the paper with precision.

When he finally reached the white box beneath the wrapping, he cautiously lifted off the lid. Killian couldn't help the small gasp that escaped his lips at the contents of the box. Inside, Henry had placed a stack of Polaroid's that Killian quickly began sorting through, realizing instantly that all of the photographs had been taken prior to his move into their apartment.

The first one on top was taken not long after the curse had been broken. Killian was sitting on the pier at the Storybrooke Bay, still clad in his usual pirate garb. His feet were dangling off the edge as he held a fishing pole in his hands, his back to the camera. Killian turned it over to read the inscription.

_Killian teaching me to fish._

He smiled at the memory before quickly moving to the next one. It was the night of the big celebration of the Witch's demise. Being the royals that they were, David and Mary-Margaret took it upon themselves to throw a massive party for the town. Killian's breath hitched in his throat as he glanced at the photograph. Standing under all of the lights and streamers, Killian had his arms wrapped around Emma, their foreheads resting gently against the other as they embraced in a slow dance, both oblivious to the fact that the young boy had taken their picture. His emotions began to overtake him as he flipped over the photograph to read Henry's caption.

_I've never seen my mom this happy. I'm glad she found him._

Killian couldn't help the small, happy sob that escaped him. He rapidly began flipping through the pictures, studying the scenes and reading the description. There was one of Henry teaching Killian to play video games, Killian laughing next to Emma at Granny's diner in their usual booth, Killian trying pizza for the first time. Picture after picture came, all of them including Killian.

When he arrived at the last picture, his emotions finally got the better of him. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he lifted the final photograph out of the box. It was the day Killian had moved in to their apartment. Killian was sitting on the floor, boxes surrounding him as he carefully unpacked a box of his belongings. Breathing out through his nose, Killian flipped the snapshot over, his heart swelling immediately.

_I finally got a dad. Best day ever! _

He felt a pair of arms envelope him from behind before she placed a kiss of his cheek. "He's been working on this project since the curse was broken, you know?" Emma whispered into his ear.

"You knew all along?" Killian questioned softly.

"I did. Henry wanted you to have the best first Father's Day ever. That's why you never found pictures of you lying around. He wanted to surprise you."

Emma had hardly finished her sentence when the door burst open, Henry running inside, panting from obviously running the whole way home. He glanced down at the open box and then at the portrait in Killian's hand. And when his eyes locked with Killian's, his grin could not get any bigger.

"You opened your present!" he happily exclaimed, rushing towards Killian and nearly tripping over his feet in the process.

"Aye, lad, I did. Thank you very much," Killian replied, beaming down at the boy and ruffling his hair playfully.

Smiling up at the pirate, Henry wrapped his small arms around Killian's waist in a hug. "Happy Father's Day, dad."

Returning Henry's hug, Killian glanced up at Emma. She had never seen the pride and happiness in Killian's face as she did in that moment. He mouthed a silent "thank you" to which Emma replied with a small and a nod.

Killian didn't know what he did to deserve this. During his long life, he had committed more sins than he cared to admit. He had hurt people, killed people, stole from people. And yet now, he had a family: a beautiful girlfriend and an adoring son to call his own. Killian vowed that he would never understand what he did to deserve this second chance.


	6. Seeing In A New Light

**Prompt: Emma figures out that Hook has very poor eyesight and needs glasses!**

* * *

Emma signed from exhaustion as she shut the door behind her, clicking the lock into place. Leaning back against the door, she let out a groan before trudging over to the couch where she spotted her pirate.

Killian was sitting on the couch, a book perched in front of his face. (He's taken to reading books from this realm while she was at the station doing sheriff work) When he saw her walking towards him, he pulled down the book, smiling at his girlfriend.

"Evening, love," he addressed her as she flopped down clumsily next to him on the couch, automatically placing her feet in his lap, her head going to rest on the arm of the sofa.

She groaned in response, earning a quick chuckle from Killian as he shook his head in amusement. "Rough day, huh, Swan?"

"Ugh," Emma groaned once more, rubbing her hands over her tired eyes. "You have no idea. Who knew that the dwarves could be so demanding and hostile?"

With a smirk and a shake of his head, Killian let out another chuckle. "Well you just relax there. Tell you what, let me finish this chapter and I'll help you _properly_ unwind," he replied, adding in a quick wink.

Emma hummed in content as he began to mindlessly knead her sore feet, working out the aches and pains settled deep within. After a few moments, he removed his hand to pick up his book, her feet instantly missing the warmth that was him.

She squirmed deeper into the couch, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes in an attempt to rest before the strenuous plans that Killian had planned for later. Emma peeked one eye opened to catch a glance of the pirate.

Furrowing her eyebrows at the sight of him, she studied him intently: the way he held the book close to his face, eyes squinting, face scrunched in concentration and struggle.

The ends of her lips turned down in a frown. "Killian?"

He glanced up from the book, pulling it down to face her. "Yes, love?"

Pursing her lips, Emma snatched the book from his hand, opening it up and placing it in front of her, a good enough distance that he should still be able to read it. "What does this say?" she inquired, pointing to the chapter title page of the text.

Looking down at the book, Killian squinted his blue eyes, concentrating on the text, trying with great effort to read the print, yet ultimately failing. He hummed as he tried to focus on the words printed.

After taking a moment too long, Emma snidely replied, shutting the book in her lap. "You can't see."

"Excuse me?" Killian aptly replied, feigning disgust. "My eyes are perfectly fine."

Emma smirked, quirking an eyebrow like he does too often. "Killian, why didn't you tell me that you have bad eyesight?"

He scoffed, "I have no bloody idea what you're talking about, Swan."

"Oh come on, Killian. Open book, remember?" she smirked at their openness towards each other. No matter what the secret, big or small, the pair had always been able to read each other.

"Fine," he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest in defeat. "My eyes are a tad bit bad. But it's nothing to fuss over," Killian declared, snatching his book back hastily. "I'll be fine."

"Oh no you don't," she shot back, digging her cell phone out of the pocket of her skinny jeans and dialing a number. "I'm making an appointment for you first thing in the morning."

Killian groaned, running his hands stubbornly across his face in contempt. Emma giggled, playfully sticking her tongue out at the pirate when he glanced her way. This was definitely going to be interesting.

* * *

"Come on, Killian," Emma shouted, banging her fist loudly against the bathroom door. She impatiently huffed, her hands going to sit at her hips. "Just come out of the bathroom. We're going to be late! Mary-Margaret and David are expecting us at Granny's in half an hour."

"Not bloody likely!" came the muffled voice from the pirate on the other side of the door.

Ever since the pair had returned from the eye doctor's office, Killian made a beeline for the bathroom, locking himself in there for the better part of an hour, eyeglasses in tow. Killian refused to let anyone, especially Swan, see him with the spectacles on. Who knew that the notorious pirate Captain Hook would be self-conscious about his appearance?

"Killian," Emma whined, unsuccessfully wiggling the doorknob in an attempt to pry the door open. "I swear if we miss this dinner, there will be some _serious_ repercussions, mister."

No answer.

"KILLIAN!" Emma shouted once more, resuming her incessant knocking on the bathroom door. Nothing. No response from the stubborn pirate.

Emma groaned. And then arched an eyebrow, a smirk growing on her beautiful face as an idea struck her. So he wanted to play hardball, huh?

Leaning her mouth close to the door, she quietly spoke, "Who knew a dashing and seemingly confident pirate would be so conscious of a little piece of plastic with some glass attached?"

When she got no response, she continued, "So I guess I'll just head to dinner by myself. And then I'll just have to let everyone know that you were scared of wearing your glasses." She leaned closer to the door, clicking her tongue and teasingly adding, "That you're chicken."

Emma fell forward as the door flew open, her hands instantly grabbing the frame of the door to hold herself up. When she caught her balance, Emma glanced up at the pirate. He was fuming, face red from agitation. She could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears; black plastic frames perched upon his nose, slightly shielding his beautiful blue orbs.

"I don't think so, love," Killian spat, obviously offended and still conscious of the frame on his face. He avoided her eye contact as best as he could. Killian flinched slightly when her hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb soothingly rubbing over his skin.

"They look fine, Killian," she encouraged, moving her hand from his cheek to wrap around the back of his neck, her fingers instantly going to comb through his dark locks.

He huffed, eyes trained to the ceiling, still trying his hardest to not look her in the eyes. Which was quite an impressive feat considering her close proximity and that amazing feeling of her nails against his scalp.

"In fact," she began, standing up her tiptoes to move her mouth closer to his red-tinged ear, "I think they look kind of sexy."

His eyes failed him, instantly snapping to hers. Killian smiled at the smirk upon her face, the smug look showed that she knew exactly what she was doing. Two can play at that game.

Killian's forehead fell to hers, his hand ghosting up her arm as he felt the goose bumps begin to rise on her sun kissed skin, eventually making its way to her golden locks, his hand instantly tangling itself inside. "Oh really?" he flirted, bumping his nose against hers.

"Yes, really," she whispered, closing the gap to pull him into a searing kiss, her hand holding onto his neck as he continued to run his hand through her tresses.

After a few moments, the two parted, breathless, their lips still ghosting against the other. Without hesitation, Killian pulled her right back in as he lifted her up, Emma's thighs and hips resting against him in delicious ways, her ankles coming to cross behind him to support her weight.

Placing his hand under Emma to hold her up, he made his way across the room, gently laying her down on the bed, never breaking their kiss.

Needless to say, the pair arrived quite late to their family dinner. And now, seeing things in a new light, Killian decided that maybe glasses were not so bad after all.


End file.
